


The Best Man

by LVB



Series: Albus Potter, Wizard Extraordinaire [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-07
Updated: 2012-02-07
Packaged: 2017-10-30 18:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LVB/pseuds/LVB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the day of Scorpius and Rose’s wedding and as usual, Albus is stuck in the middle. His speech isn’t done, Ron and Draco are fighting and he’s been conned into playing hairdresser in the girl’s room. Will this day ever end? Part of the Albus Potter, Wizard Extraordinaire series. </p><p>Rated M for swearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Man

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

****

Malfoy Manor was in chaos. Servants and House Elves alike were rushing around, inspecting every available surface, cleaning and polishing, changing and dusting. There were people in the drawing room expanding tables and walls, enchanting ceilings and doorways. The sound of Mrs Malfoy’s voice commanding the army of workers echoed throughout the manor and Albus cringed, knowing how particular the woman was. A loud crash boomed through the manor and the following ruckus was enough to send Albus outside.

As he snuck past some supposed uncle of Scorpius’, he realised that outside was no haven either. The gardens were set up for the bloody King of England, it seemed. Not that the Malfoys would ever have _him_ over. The archway was covered in bright red roses. It was definitely a Malfoy thing, because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Rose absolutely _hated_ them.

With more crashing and screaming in the manor, Albus took the opportunity to hide behind the bushes at the far end of what would become the altar in a matter of hours. Albus was rarely prone to hiding, especially in the bushes at the Malfoys, but the morning of Rose and Scorpius’ wedding had already nearly got him insane. As per Mrs Malfoy and Aunt Hermione’s instructions, Al was still in his Muggle clothes, so he wouldn’t soil his fine dress robes.

That suited him just fine.

He sunk down to the ground and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. For as long as he was an adult, there seemed to be nothing a quick smoke couldn’t fix. From the moment he had nicked some from Teddy, he had used them to fulfil his need to take a time out. Now was certainly one of those times.

Just as he was about to light his precious cigarette with an old Muggle lighter, a shimmering blue parrot interrupted his solitude. “Where are you, you fucking git? It’s my wedding day! Get your arse up here now!” Scorpius’ voice boomed out of the parrot. “And don’t even think about ignoring me!”

Sighing, Albus shoved the unlit cigarette back into his pocket. His moment of solitude would come—eventually.

o0o

Albus’ trip back through the daunting halls of Malfoy Manor proved as exhausting as his escape was. He only just managed to escape Mr Malfoy and Uncle Ron engaging in another daft disagreement.

“You’ve got to be joking. Rose hates harps!” Uncle Ron boomed as Mr Malfoy directed a group of twelve harpists to the gardens. “Bloody hell, Malfoy, why are there a _squadron_ of them?”

Mr Malfoy glared at Uncle Ron. “I happen to think that the harp is a statement of class, Weasley. Not that your brood would know anything about that. I won’t have my son getting married to the crude sounds of that harlot Celestina Warbeck.”

As Uncle Ron’s face turned red, Albus practically dived behind a pillar. He might’ve been his favourite uncle, but Albus wasn’t looking for a fight that clearly wasn’t his. He was about to deal with his own problems.

As he finally reached the grand staircase, Aunt Hermione appeared, her face bare of makeup and her hair thicker and bushier than Albus had ever seen it in his twenty-three years of existence. As Uncle Ron’s voice drifted further up the hallway, she frowned and locked eyes with Albus.

“Are they still arguing?” she demanded, peering around Albus to the source of the noise. “What is it about this time? The chairs? Who is supposed to be paying for the flowers?”

“Mr Malfoy hired twelve harpists,” Albus supplied, watching his Aunt’s face turn from a mix of irritated and tired to outright rage.

“Harpists! I suppose they’re going to accompany Rose down the aisle along with the eighteen peacocks Astoria just told me about!”

“They’re around the corner,” Albus offered and quickly got out of the way when his Aunt uncharacteristically swore and took off to support her husband’s current and rather offensive character assassination of Mr Malfoy.

As Albus ascended the grand staircase, the voices below became louder. He cringed as the elder Mrs Malfoy came rushing down the stairs. Her hair was already done in an intricate design and her deep emerald robes swished as she barely acknowledged Albus, wanting to rush to her only son’s aid against the barbarians that were the Weasleys.

As the elder Mrs Malfoy joined the fray, Albus thankfully came to a stop in front of the entry to the east wing. He had spent many summers here and he knew the Manor as well as he knew the Burrow. Scorpius was undoubtedly in his childhood room and he was fairly certain Rose was in one of the guest suites in the third level west wing.

Praying to Merlin that this day would be over, Albus didn’t bother knocking and stormed into Scorpius’ room. “Nice of you to join us, supposed best friend,” Scorpius mocked from his position standing in front of the full-length mirror.

Albus glanced around and nodded to Teddy and Frankie Longbottom, the other two groomsmen for the occasion. “And here I thought I left you in capable hands.”

Teddy shrugged. “I’m only here because I’m blood-related, after all!”

“And Scorpius paid me really well,” added Frankie.

“You really should comb your hair,” the mirror lectured as Scorpius turned around. Albus smirked at his clearly tense demeanour.

“The mirror is right, you look like absolute shit. I might go tell Rosie to call the whole thing off,” Albus joked, controlling his inner laughter at Scorpius’ look of absolute terror. “She’s probably having doubts about marrying a Malfoy anyway, with the way everyone’s carrying on downstairs. Couldn’t even sneak off for a smoke, you prat.”

Teddy groaned. “They’re still fighting?”

Albus nodded. “Twelve harpists accompanying eighteen effing peacocks down the aisle which is tastefully decorated with dozens of bright red roses. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mum has ordered singing, naked cherubs to throw confetti, rose petals and unicorn shit on you as you walk back up the aisle.”

“Fuck off,” Scorpius swore, punching Albus’ arm. “You’re lying.”

“I’m afraid not, Scorpalicious,” he said, using Lily’s nickname for her soon-to-be cousin-in-law. “Well, about the unicorn shit maybe, but Uncle Ron is about to punch your dad’s lights out downstairs.”

Suddenly, Teddy started laughing. “This family is _mental_.”

“You’re a git, Albus! Why did I even ask you to be my best man? You’re supposed to be here, calming me down, telling me everything is going to be fine, not reminding me that my family and your family are a bunch of idiots!”

“Search me,” Albus responded. “You should’ve asked Theodore over here. Been there and done that.”

Teddy snorted. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Harry was my best man and he was too embarrassed to even organise a proper stag night. We had to sneak back out and enjoy the French strippers without him. Not to mention he and Uncle Draco firing spells and exploding the punch bowl all over the Delacours,” he pointed out.

Both Albus and Scorpius stared at Teddy in horror as Frankie burst out laughing. “Maybe Al’s right, Scorpalicious. It seems that anything to do with Potters, Malfoys and Weasleys and combinations thereof, doesn’t end well. You might as well accept that Rose will probably chuck you.”

“Don’t tell him that, Frankie! We wouldn’t want to see a Malfoy shedding tears on his wedding day, after all,” Teddy added.

The three of them were having a good laugh at Scorpius’ misfortune when a frantic pounding sounded at the door. Scorpius groaned as the mirror sighed dramatically. “I told you to comb your hair.”

Still laughing, Frankie launched across the room and wrestled open the door, revealing a frantic redhead. Lily walked into the room, her hair half curled around the left side of her face. “Why aren’t you getting ready?”

Scorpius went to answer but was promptly cut off. “Oh, who cares! Albus, you prat, have you been here the whole time? Ugh, it doesn’t matter. You need to come with me right away!” Lily said, her words practically bleeding into one another in her rushed tempo, which was fairly usual for her.

“Is everything alright? Merlin, Rose hasn’t decided to call off the wedding, has she?” Scorpius asked, mimicking Lily’s rushed words. “Tell her I’ll chuck the lot of them, Teddy too if she wants!”

“Oi!” Albus ignored Teddy’s one-finger salute and calmly stalked up to his sister.

“What is the crisis, Lily? You’re the Maid-of-Dishonour, aren’t you? You’re not doing a very good job of it,” he said, knowing her reaction before the words even left his mouth. Lily didn’t open her mouth. Her brown eyes narrowed and with Seeker-speed she grabbed his ear and promptly twisted it.

For the first time since this morning, Scorpius’ face melted into a smile.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that again, Albus Potter or I will rip your ear off and you and Uncle George will be a matching pair,” she shrieked, her already pink face bursting into a Weasley red flame.

“Lils!” Albus pleaded, trying to avoid Frankie’s booming laughter from behind him. “Come on, I was only joking!”

Finally, Lily let go and blew a rogue curl from her forehead as Albus swore and touched his now-throbbing ear. “You’re a little shit,” he breathed quietly.

“Merlin’s beard, Albus, just go already,” Scorpius demanded loudly, but then his face softened. “Bribe her if you have to. Tell her that Dad is an absolute idiot and Mum is a freak and I’ll call off the fucking peacocks if I have to!”

If Albus wasn’t completely overwhelmed with the complete insanity that was this day, he might’ve suggested that he ask his cousin slash best-friend to give back his bollocks. Lily motioned for him to follow her. He glared at the remaining male members of the wedding party and closed the door  behind him.

He took a moment to look at his sister. “You’re not even close to being ready either,” he pointed out, moving away from her Seeker’s arm. Lily looked down at her Muggle jeans and ratty old jumper. “No, I suppose not.”

As he suspected, the direction Lily was headed was the third-level east wing. “Is everything alright, Lils?” Albus finally asked as they reached the top of the staircase.  After her performance downstairs, her silence unnerved him more than he would have liked.

Lily stopped walking and shuffled in her worn tennis shoes. “I don’t know what to do,” she blurted out after a few seconds. “Rose is driving me mental, Al!”

Albus just stared at her. “You called me away from Scorpius because your cousin is driving you batty? You’re the youngest of three Potter kids, not to mention the whole brood of Weasley cousins. You were made for this!”

Lily shook her head and another two curls fell limp across her forehead. “Not like this,” she whined. “Every time someone else shows up it looks like she’s about to _murder_ someone. I had to ask Aunt Audrey to fetch us some drinks because she was fussing over Rose’s shoes too much!”

Albus wasn’t exactly surprised. Rose had always been more of a tomboy and anybody that attempted to get her to style her hair or wear make-up usually came under fire in a rather spectacular manner. The last time Albus had suggested she brush her hair had seen his trousers literally go up in flames.

In all the madness over the years, it was always Albus that was able to calm her down. When he had accepted Scorpius’ offer of being the Best Man he knew he would be running the risk of upsetting Rose. But he had assured himself that he would have looked positively dreadful in magenta dress robes and that being a male Maid-of-Honour was strictly out of order. So, he had sent in the next best thing: Lily.

Lily and Rose were cousins and friends but Lily had her own best friend in Gryffindor. And despite their closeness, it was painfully obvious to everyone, including both Albus and Scorpius, that Rose and Albus were best friends of the forever variety.

Albus sighed and put his hand on his sister. “Has she set anyone’s dress robes on fire?” Albus asked, not quite sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

Lily shook her head and Albus found himself exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Well you’ve done well so far,” he conceded. “But let’s see her.”

Lily’s face lit up. “Thank you, Albus.”

Lily happily led Albus the rest of the way, although with the loud voices coming from behind the door, he had a sneaking suspicion that he would have found his way. “Good luck,” Lily chirped from behind him and Albus inwardly groaned.

“Oi, get decent, I’m coming in!”

As Albus opened the door, he heard a small shriek and spied a red-headed blur dive behind the large, plush sofa in the room. Albus couldn’t help but grin as the bride-to-be, covered from head-to-toe in various creams groaned. “You’re not supposed to say that as you’re walking in, Albus,” Rose said crisply, reminding him completely of his Aunt Hermione. He then recalled the way his Aunt’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed on her way to argue with Mr Malfoy and agreed with his first assessment.

“You’re a prat!” screeched Lucy from behind the sofa. He rolled his eyes as a flurry of hands and legs moved in abandon behind the sofa.

“He’s not even dressed, Lucy,” Rose added and smiled sweetly at him.

Albus could only laugh. “And aren’t you a sight? It looks like you had a fight with a cloud and lost. And Lucy, in case you’ve forgotten, we used to have baths together when our lovely Granny decided to lose her marbles.”

“Shut up!” Lucy groaned and within seconds, appeared again, this time wearing a nightgown.

“Do I really look like a cloud?” Rose asked, just as Lily shoved a glass of what Albus assumed to be strong Firewhiskey into his hand. Albus downed his drink, relishing in the horrid burn that stuck in the back of his throat.

“Of course not,” Albus reassured her, secretly thinking she looked like she was drowning under all the gloop that was currently attached to her skin. Just as Rose was about to open her mouth, the door swung open without a knock and all at once, both Mrs Malfoys, Aunt Hermione, Al’s Mum and Roxanne, the third bridesmaid, all stormed in. Albus inwardly cringed as he noticed the redness on Aunt Hermione’s cheeks.

“See, everything’s fine,” said Roxanne through gritted teeth, and shot Rose an apologetic look. “Not a thing to worry about.”

The elder Mrs Malfoy pushed past an already cross-looking Aunt Hermione and moved closer to Rose. Lucy moved backwards and clutched her robe together, her face taking a greenish pallor. “Are you sure everything is alright, dear? We wouldn’t want anything to spoil the wedding.”

“What in Merlin’s name are you talking about?” Rose snapped at her future grandmother-in-law, causing Aunt Hermione’s eyes to grow wide and Al’s mother to stifle a smirk.

Mrs Malfoy the younger now rushed forward, holding a long and traditional veil in her thin, bony hands and eyeing off Rose’s mane of thick, red hair. The elder Mrs Malfoy looked positively scandalised. “Young Scorpius is under the impression that due to our improvements to the wedding, you have been persuaded to call it off!”

“What?” both Rose and Aunt Hermione called out.

“That’s completely absurd, not to mention irrational,” Rose called out as her future mother-in-law began to run her fingers through Rose’s hair.

“And I would hardly call your last minute additions _improvements_ , Narcissa,” Aunt Hermione snapped, causing Rose to blush under the cloud cream.

“Hermione,” the younger Mrs Malfoy began, the tiredness from the entire wedding clearly affecting her, “we have only added some minor traditions that have been passed down through generations of Malfoys. Your daughter is going to be a Malfoy in a matter of hours and we simply wished to include her. Although I suppose there hasn’t been a wedding quite like _this_ in Malfoy history.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that, Astoria?” Aunt Hermione asked again. “Because there’s going to be a Muggle-born in attendance? Or because Rose is what you vile people call a Half-Blood?”

Albus watched the blood drain out of Rose’s face. She might have been made of steel on her own, but Rose was quite clearly in need of dire assistance. Before the rest of the women in the room began to put in their two sickles, Albus decided it was time to intervene.

“Maybe because it’s the first Malfoy wedding where the bride and the groom can actually stand one another,” Albus promptly blurted out, causing the entire room to stare at him in complete and utter shock.

Rose’s face promptly exploded into a grin and Albus swore he saw his mother grin at him. Lily, Roxanne and Lucy were all seated on the elegant looking loveseat attempting not to laugh and failing miserably.

Suddenly, the older women started bickering at once.

“Albus, that isn’t really appropriate!”

“How dare you come into Malfoy Manor and talk such nonsense about the hosts!”

“Albus, really, that isn’t the case at all—“

“Albus, sweetheart, that probably wasn’t necessary.”

“ENOUGH!” Rose finally yelled, looking around at the occupants of the room. “This is _my_ wedding day! Mum, they aren’t vile people,” at this point the elder Mrs Malfoy looked smug and the younger looked positively perplexed, “they just aren’t used to having so many Weasleys around. And really, Mrs Malfoy...err, both of you, I really have no intention of leaving Scorpius at the altar.”

“Where did you hear that anyway?” Albus watched his mum ask, her bright red hair already styled for her niece’s wedding.

Scorpius’ mum was about to answer when his grandmother sharply cut in. “He was deeply concerned that Rose was going to call off the entire wedding.”

“Which idiot gave him that idea?” Rose demanded. And all eyes were on Albus again. Rose growled. “Oh Albus, you didn’t?”

“I was just joking around with him. I didn’t actually mean it!” Albus protested, wishing he had time to smoke that precious cigarette sitting in his pocket.

“You’re an absolute menace, Albus!” Roxanne complained from the loveseat. Albus vowed to step on her toes when his mother would undoubtedly insist they dance later that night.

“Albus, you march right down there and tell Scorpius that I’m marrying him!” Rose screeched, wiping off thick globs of the cloud cream. “And you tell him that I don’t care about the stupid Malfoy traditions!”

“Perhaps we ought to go and see Scorpius and tell him,” his mum said hurriedly to the elder Mrs Malfoy. “He’s probably scared out of his wits, my poor baby.”

Albus spied his Aunt Hermione roll her eyes and his mother’s hand gently squeeze her hand. Rose nodded vigorously. “That would be excellent, thank you Mrs Malfoy.”

“Besides,” the elder Mrs Malfoy cut in, “it seems you cousin is quite the troublemaker. Why my dear Scorpius chose to have him as Best Man, I’ll never know.”

“Because I’d look awful in magenta dress robes,” Albus lamented out loud. “Pass along my love to Scorpius, will you?”

Both Mrs Malfoys narrowed their eyes at him but opted to stay silent, having known Albus for many years and they were as totally unsurprised at his behaviour as his own mother.

“Hermione, Ginny, I assume you’ll be quite capable in assisting Rose in getting ready for the ceremony on time? I do know how Weasleys can often be late,” the elder Mrs Malfoy said rather condescendingly.

“Yes, thank you, Narcissa,” Aunt Hermione chirped, clearly relieved to have been excused from their company. The door finally slammed shut and the barrage began again.

“Have you gone completely mental, Albus?”

“You’re a little shit, Al!”

“Albus sweetheart, why did you have to cause trouble?”

“YOU ABSOLUTE ARSE, ALBUS POTTER!” Rose finally screeched and then her face softened. “Did you somehow plan that to get those two cows out of my room?”

Albus didn’t plan that in the slightest but with a room full of women staring at him, expecting an answer, he nodded furiously. “Of course, A-Rose-By-Any-Other-Name!” he pandered.

The women all fell silent and his Aunt looked at him gratefully. The younger Mrs Malfoy rarely irritated Albus whenever he visited but both he _and_ Scorpius normally stayed out of the elder Mrs Malfoy’s way whenever possible. She was certainly a stroppy cow—and Albus was just glad he hadn’t run into her foul git of a husband yet. 

“Perhaps we should finish Lily’s hair and get started on the rest of the bridesmaids?” Al’s mum suggested and Albus spied his cousins nod happily. Just then the door opened and Aunt Fleur, Victoire and little Jacqueline walked in.

Aunt Fleur gasped loudly, age having rarely touched her face or body. “You are not getting ready?”

“Maman, please,” Victoire started as little Jacqueline pulled on her hand. “Hair, Maman! Hair like Lily!”

Victoire sighed and pulled her daughter into her arms and kissed the top of her head as her mother fluttered about. “But we must get started! Ze boys are probably almost ready, _non_? Rose, sit down, I shall do you hair and your maman can help the others, _oui_?”

Albus cringed, thinking about the verbal onslaught that was sure to follow. To his absolute surprise and relief, Rose simply wiped off the last of her cloud cream. “I think I’m ready.”

Aunt Hermione clapped her hands together at the same time Aunt Fleur and Aunt Ginny began grinning stupidly.

“Alright, Rose you sit there and Lily, you and Jacqueline, in the middle and Lucy, sweetheart? There you go.”

As the girls all settled down to get their hair done, Roxanne looked rather put out. “I can’t do my own hair,” she whined, seeing Lily with her mother, Lucy with Aunt Hermione, Victoire with her daughter and Aunt Fleur’s expert hands gliding through Rose’s mane of untamed hair.

“Don’t ask Mum,” Lucy warned. “She’s a nightmare!”

“Should we call Dom do you think?” Aunt Hermione asked hurriedly. Suddenly, Al’s mum turned around.

“Hermione, do you remember when Albus used to curl Lily’s hair when they were younger?”

Albus felt his heart sink. The cigarette in his pocket, which he was now completely desperate to smoke, taunted him. His bollocks nearly crawled back into his body as Roxanne sat happily in the remaining seat.

“Albus, you were always such a sweet boy,” Aunt Hermione started, squeezing his shoulder. “And really, Rose would probably much prefer you here to help.”

“Really, Albus, you were quite good. Besides, you wouldn’t be doing anything that exciting down with the boys, anyway, would you?”

Roxanne spun round and looked at him in the eye. “Albus, please? I don’t want to be the last bridesmaid to get her hair done. I need to look presentable for Frankie, after all!”

“Merlin’s bollocks,” Albus loudly exclaimed, ignoring his mother’s glares. He sighed dramatically, removed his jumper and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. With flair, he took out his wand and spun Roxanne back around and grabbed her hair. “Well if I’m going to lose my man card, let’s at least make you look presentable, Roxy.”

o0o

It had been half ten when Albus had been lured into the den of Weasleys. Albus looked at the grandfather clock that stood majestically in the corner of the very busy room. Half twelve, the clock face announced. It had been a full two hours of primping and styling; yelling and calming but finally, it was over.

After Roxanne had her hair done, Aunt Fleur had commissioned him to start on Molly and then Aunt Audrey. The women talked and preened while Albus slowly lost what was left of his manhood as he worked magic with his wand. In the process, both Hugo and Uncle Ron had walked in. One had made crude and inappropriate jokes and the other was his cousin, who had simply laughed.

However, seeing his cousin actually smiling and allowing the womenfolk to fawn over her made it worthwhile. After that nauseating thought, Albus realised he needed to escape the estrogen-filled room. The ceremony was scheduled for two o’clock and not a second later if the elder Mrs Malfoy had anything to do with it.

But before anything, Albus needed that cigarette. Not to mention earning back access to his bollocks. Rose, who now had her hair and make-up down was sitting in the loveseat, next to Lily. “Albus, I really think you ought to go back down to Scorpius,” Lily urged. Trying to be subtle about it, Albus tried to gauge Rose’s reaction. He really didn’t want to piss Rose off when Scorpius was undoubtedly ready to kick him in the bollocks for abandoning him. “Rosie?” he asked. “Can I return to your loving fiancé yet?”

Rose stood, trying not to ruin her freshly painted nails. “I’ll walk you out,” she confirmed.

“I’ll see you lovely ladies at the ceremony and you ugly ones at the reception!” Albus called back to the sea of cousins and Aunts.

“Albus, sweetheart, could you make sure that the boys get ready on time? You were always the most prepared. And tell your Uncle that if he makes another scene, Mum is going to box his ears in when she gets here.”

Albus waved back at his mother and winked at his little sister, who was admittedly looking absolutely beautiful with her hair in perfectly styled ringlets. Albus vowed never to admit it and followed Rose out the front door. The corridor contrasted the madness within the room greatly.

“Merlin’s fucking balls,” Rose swore. “Shagging, bollocks, fuck!” Albus wished that he could be surprised by Rose’s outburst but he was only surprised she had waited this long.

“Alright there?” he asked, amused by Rose’s string of mediocre curse words—normally she outperformed even James.

“They’re all mad! Every last one of them! I thought my Mum or your mum might have some sense but they’re just as fucking mental as everyone else!”

Albus shrugged. “What did you expect, A-Bunch-of-Roses? You’re marrying Scorpius Malfoy, the biggest git in the world.”

“He’s your best friend,” Rose huffed.

“That hardly qualifies him for martyrdom,” Albus pointed out. “Besides, he was your best friend too until you decided that his trousers looked better on your bedroom floor than covering his bits, if I remember correctly.”

Rose’s face turned into a scowl. “You’re a cockhead, Albus Potter. By the way, have you got any cigarettes? I’m going to go spare if I don’t sneak out for one soon.”

Albus thought back to the one cigarette hiding in the pocket of his own trousers. He did have a pack that was half full stashed in his own guest quarters. Rose noticed the hesitation and held out her hand. “Don’t be an arse, Potter. Hand it over.”

“What the fuck for, Rosie-bear? Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s unattractive to see a bride puffing a fag on her most joyous occasion?”

“It’s my wedding day,” Rose announced smugly. Albus found himself unable to argue with that, so he shoved his slightly crumpled and precious cigarette into his cousin’s outstretched, well-moisturised and manicured hand.

“Bitch,” he muttered, just as Rose shoved the precious object down her bra.

“ALBUS POTTER!” a familiar voice screeched, her voice echoing off the empty and cold corridor. “That is absolutely disgusting behaviour! And on your cousin’s wedding day, no less! I ought to box your ears in, young man!” Granny Weasley shrieked. “Apologise this instant!”

Rose looked at him smugly, her painted lips melting into a sarcastic grin. “Yes, Al. Gran is right. It’s my wedding day.”

“Well, young man?” she demanded. The woman had birthed seven children and had helped raise over a dozen grandchildren. There was no way he was going to get this one past her. He sighed dramatically.

“I’m sorry Rose. I shouldn’t have said that about you or tried to upset you on your wedding day,” he said, as much sincerity as a dragon promising not to burn someone to a crisp.

“That’s a good boy,” his Gran cooed. “Rose, sweetheart, is your mother in there?”

“Everyone bar Aunt Angelina, Dom and her girlfriend and Nana Jean,” Rose confirmed.

“Oh, lovely. Al, dear, shouldn’t you be downstairs with your best friend? You’d better run along, it sounded like Teddy was looking for you.”

With that, their Gran went inside to a chorus of shouts and cheers. “Well, thanks for the cig,” Rose said brightly. “I guess I’ll see you down there, yeah? And make sure Scorpius knows without a doubt I’m not about to run off with Anton Krum or something equally as barmy.”

Albus nodded, thankful he was finally being dismissed, as it were. “Don’t trip down the aisle,” he warned, “or your fiancé won’t want to marry you in those high-waisted knickers you’ve got on.”

“You’re a lousy best man,” Rose hissed and with a one-figure salute, re-entered the estrogen-zone.

o0o

“You’re a lousy best man!” Scorpius shouted as soon as Albus had re-entered the testosterone zone. The scene in front of him reminded him of Rose’s room—a little too much. There were several goblets of what Al presumed was Firewhiskey scattered around the room but the tone was exactly the same. Of all people, Scorpius’ dad was sitting in a chair and someone was trying to fix his receding hairline.

Albus stared for a moment and then glared at Scorpius. “How’d you figure that?” he asked casually, searching for his dress robes. He spied them hanging and made his way over to them, Scorpius following him.

“You’ve been gone for two hours! You let my mother and grandmother come down to console me. They’re fucking mental, Albus! Grandmother thought I was crying. _Crying_.”

“I told you Potters weren’t to be trusted with anything of importance,” Mr Malfoy said from his conjured chair. “You should have asked Zabini.”

“Father, I love you and thank you for sponsoring this event but seriously, stay out of it,” Scorpius threatened. “It’s bad enough you had to insist on the fucking peacocks!”

“They are tradition,” Mr Malfoy said smoothly, swatting away his faux-hairdresser’s hands from his head. “Besides, Father made me have them so I thought I’d pass along the favour. You’re lucky he’s even allowing this wedding, especially in this house.”

“Thanks Father,” Scorpius replied. “Idiot,” he muttered under his breath. “Hugo came down and said that you were actually styling the girls’ hair up there. He was lying, wasn’t he, Al?”

Albus cleared his throat and pointed his wand to his dress robes, removing them from the packaging. “So what if I was? I happen to be comfortable with my sexuality. Besides, women tell me all the time I’m good with my hands.”

“Men probably tell you that too,” Frankie added, fixing his shoe with his wand in the corner. “Speaking of, your cousin Dom and that lovely girlfriend of hers weren’t upstairs parading around in their knickers, were they?”

Before Albus could send a hex at his supposed mate, Teddy had already intervened and delivered a sharp punch to his arm. “Oi,” Frankie protested and then stopped. “Right, sister-in-law. Sorry. Tell me then, what was Roxy wearing?”

As Teddy delivered another punch to Frankie and Mr Malfoy and began yelling at the man fixing his lack of hair, Scorpius who was already decked out in the finest dress robes in all of Europe, pulled him aside.

“She alright?” he mumbled, looking at his shoes. Albus nodded and put his hands on his best mate’s shoulders. “She’s fine. She stole my last cigarette and I called her a bitch. She’s about as normal as you can get.”

Scorpius sighed in relief. “Thanks, Al. I knew you could be a decent wizard when your head wasn’t stuck up your arse. I lied, you’re a good Best Man and a great best friend.”

Albus wondered whether he should demand a fresh pack of cigarettes as compensation for his talents, but Scorpius kept talking. “And I know your speech is going to be hilarious _and_ appropriate for all ages.”

Albus suddenly felt panic envelop him. Scorpius stared at him incredulously. “You have written your speech. The Best Man speech, the one that everyone looks forward to because it’s the funniest?”

“Of course I have,” Albus scoffed. “Do you take me for some kind of deranged Hufflepuff?”

Scorpius smirked. “Of course not, Albus. I always thought you might’ve made a rather fetching Slytherin.”

Before Albus could get his wand out and curse the stupid smile right off Scorpius’ face, a red-faced Uncle Ron came stomping around the corner. Within a second, Scorpius’ face changed from sarcastic to concerned. “Is everything alright, Mr Weasley?”

Albus knew that Uncle Ron really didn’t have a problem with Scorpius. Scorpius was surprisingly well-mannered every time he visited the Weasley or Potter households. Uncle Ron, however, had made it abundantly clear to everyone that while he accepted Scorpius, he would still rather see his father and grandfather being eaten alive by flesh-eating slugs.

“Uncle Ron?” Albus added, wondering just how long it would take until his face matched his hair.

“Where is your father?” Uncle Ron asked, eyeing Albus, surprisingly. “He’s nowhere to be found, the git, that’s where he is!”

“Have you sent your Patronus?” Scorpius asked politely.

“He doesn’t reply if he’s busy,” Albus offered. “What do you need him for, anyway?”

“The rest of your bloody uncles refuse to set foot in Malfoy Manor until the bleeding ceremony! And your bloody brother and my bloody son have decided to go drinking at the Leaky!” Ron bellowed. “And that, err—Draco and his father refuse to come out and help put up the fucking tent!” Suddenly, Uncle Ron perked up considerably. “You’re here, Al! What do you say about helping your old Uncle Ron, eh?”

“Mr Weasley, I’m sure that I could organise some of the House Elves to help you or even some of the hired wizards?”

Uncle Ron waved him off. “I told your father I’d do it and there’s no bloody way I’m doing it with his help,” he announced, “no offence mate.”

“None taken Mr Weasley.”

“Ron, what exactly are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be setting up the seating outside? The ceremony is in just over an hour, you really ought to get started. Or perhaps you’d prefer we assign some help to you? Ipsy, perhaps?”

Albus could have throttled his brother and cousin for abandoning the manor right now. The elder Mrs Malfoy was completely ready and she raised a perfect eyebrow at Uncle Ron. “Weasley?”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Uncle Ron growled and grabbed Albus by the collar. “This one’s helping me,” he added gruffly.

A thin smile appeared on Mrs Malfoy’s face. “Splendid. Come, Scorpius, your grandfather wants to speak to you in his study.”

Albus had the sneaking suspicion that old man Malfoy probably wanted to bribe or scheme his way to a Pureblood wedding. His dad hadn’t been too surprised when Rose and Scorpius announced their engagement but both had privately recounted the ridiculous tirade Scorpius’ grandfather had made. Eventually, it had been Scorpius’ dad who locked him in a cupboard and told Rose that they had his blessing as long as her father wasn’t going to mooch off the Malfoy finances to pay for the whole thing.

“Mr Weasley, Albus,” Scorpius said politely as his grandmother pushed him in the opposite direction.

“Fucking lunatics,” Uncle Ron muttered under his breath and Albus remembered to hex his own father for making him be the substitute best friend.

o0o

Without the assistance from the House Elves who were practically weeping with despair, the setup took considerably longer than necessary. Albus had tried to talk some sense into his uncle. “No fucking way, Al,” he had grumbled. “I don’t care if we have to get your lazy cousins to move chairs by hand in their dress robes, I am not asking for help from a Malfoy!”

“Please, Mr Wheezy,” Ipsy moaned from the sidelines. “Ipsy will do it! Ipsy is happy to do it!”

“Bugger off!” Uncle Ron shouted. It was at that moment Aunt Hermione had come to check on their progress and heard her husband’s shouting. Albus had finally snuck off as his Aunt, dressed in magnificent robes with her hair smooth and straight began to shout at her husband.

“I’m sorry, love,” Uncle Ron had moaned as Albus hid behind the bushes, again.

“I can’t believe you’d yell at Ipsy, because you’re in a right strop about things! You really ought to start considering the fact that the Malfoys are going to be family!”

“They’re lunatics, Hermione,” Uncle Ron started as Albus finally remembered after minutes of searching that he had given his last cigarette to Rose. “And how can you be so calm? Every time I walk in there, I feel like a fucking scared teenager again!”

This time his aunt lowered her voice. “I understand, Ron, but we can’t do this now. Not here, not at Rosie’s wedding. It’ll be alright.”

Albus didn’t hear the rest because he spotted a familiar shock of dark hair to the right of him. “Don’t suppose you have any cigarettes, Dad?”

Albus smirked as he heard a familiar grumble and his dad took off his invisibility cloak. “It’s a filthy habit.”

His dad was dressed in what looked like brand new robes. The grey streaks in his hair were more prominent and his glasses sat at the edge of his nose. Albus was struck by just how alike they looked. He smirked as his dad sighed and rolled up the cloak in his hands. “The ceremony in an hour, Albus! Why aren’t you upstairs getting ready?”

“Why weren’t you answering your patronus and helping Uncle Ron?” Albus shot back.

“You would have made an excellent Auror,” his father joked, ruffling Albus’ unkempt hair. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave the whole apothecary idea behind?”

“As much as I’d love to tell Scorpius that our business venture is a bust because I like to question my old man too much, I wouldn’t be able to convince Rose.”

“Ah,” his dad, motioning him to sit down. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes.  Albus didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the entire packet and quickly lit one with his wand.

“You’re a saint, Dad,” Albus said as he took a long drag. “How did you get these past Mum?”

“I’m Harry Potter,” he said. In response, Albus glared at him. “Alright, I swiped them from George. Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

They sat together in silence as Albus downed his cigarette. “Dad, what were they talking about?”

“Who?”

“Ron and Hermione,” Albus confirmed, the fact he didn’t use their titles tipping his father off that for once, he wanted to have a serious conversation. His dad shook his head.

“Not today, son.”

Albus took the hint and stayed next to his father for the next two minutes. Finally, he smoked the last of his cigarette and Vanished the rubbish. “Was it like this at their wedding? Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione?”

A smile played on his dad’s lips. All through his youth, he used to love asking his dad to tell him stories. He and James would sit and listen to tales of how everyone got together and the birth of everyone’s kids. The only thing his dad wouldn’t talk about was the War. And they had never asked.

“Well,” his dad started, getting comfortable on the ground. “Remember how I told you that they had this bloody mental love/hate relationship through school? After the...well, _after_ , it was like a switch went off in their head and they couldn’t keep their ruddy hands off one another.”

Albus snorted. “Dad, I hate to tell you, but they’re exactly the same now. Except older and louder.”

“Anyway,” he continued, ignoring Albus’ outburst, “they decided to get married after your aunt finished her eighth year at Hogwarts. And of course, Ron asked me to be his best man. I spent the entire morning helping set up the Burrow, help Ron work out his speech, get your aunt to help me edit _my_ speech not to mention trying to find some time for a quick shag with your mum...”

“That’s bloody disgusting!” Albus interrupted, making dramatic vomiting noises.

His dad laughed and shrugged. “We were teenagers, Al. Besides, you don’t think you and your siblings were adopted, do you? Not with _that_ hair.”

Albus grimaced. “Moving on...”

“Well the wedding was an absolute riot. Rita Skeeter tried to break through the wards and some stupid idiots tried to  unleash Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts into the tent. Not to mention me walking in on the bride and groom doing the deed about twenty minutes before the ceremony...”

Albus was stunned and it showed. “Never knew Aunt Hermione had it in her.”

“All in all, it was a wonderful day,” he concluded. “And now, I can’t believe we’re here at Rose’s wedding. To a Malfoy no less. Things certainly have changed.’

Albus sat there in silence and tried to picture what was to come. The morning had been completely mental. He had been rushed back and forth between Scorpius and Rose, Malfoys, Weasleys and Potters. And it was always something that was expected of him. Because from the moment he, Scorpius and Rose had been Sorted into Gryffindor, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the three of them would be best friends.

And now, two of them were getting married. He loved them both—Scorpius, for all his faults, was kind and had a wicked sense of humour. He was practically family and Rose—his foul-mouthed, tomboy of a cousin was his family. And the three of them fit. They had topped Potions class all through school and been travelling overseas and been drunk and graduated and partied together. They had opened up an apothecary in Diagon Alley, right across from Uncle George’s shop together, where Scorpius handled the finances and Rose and Albus mixed the potions.

But after today, well after sixth year, if Albus was being honest with himself, things were changing. It went from being Rosie and Al, cousins, to Rose, Albus and Scorpius friends and now to Mr and Mrs Malfoy and that Potter boy. Albus knew why he had complained but ultimately run around to please everybody today. He was absolutely terrified that after today, there’d be the two of them and then him, the random cousin on a Christmas card list. He had long made peace that they were together and loved each other. Now, he was trying to navigate a world where he was best friends with two people in a marriage.

And of course, the only wizard qualified to talk to was sitting right next to him, in a clearly nostalgic and contemplative mood. “Dad?”

His dad pulled his gaze away from the looming Manor and locked eyes with his son. “How did you do it? They were your best friends and then they just up and got married.”

His dad nodded. “I had your mum too,” he started, “but I know where you’re coming from. It’s not easy. Especially after your aunt and uncle got married.”

“What happened?” Albus enquired. His dad smiled and leant back on his arms, after pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“Ron and I worked together so things were fine between us. It was a little harder with Hermione. She went to school and then she was planning the wedding. We drifted apart. It’s not something I’m proud of,” he added. “When it came to my wedding, Hermione came to visit me in the tent, absolutely bawling. We had a long talk then and it turns out we just needed to remind ourselves that apart from Ron, more than anything, we were still best friends.

And after all of these years, she’s not just your aunt or my sister-in-law, or my best mate’s wife. She’s still the amazingly bossy woman she was when I met her.  And sometimes, just her and I go out and have lunch or a coffee or whinge and moan about our children. And that’s okay.”

Albus felt his dad’s familiar arm around him, like he used to do after story-telling time when he was a kid. “Just because they’re married, you’re not going to lose either of them. Not even one of them. Sure, the dynamics will change and maybe you won’t be living in each others’ pockets all the time but the best advice I can give you is that remember, more than anything, you’re best friends.”

A grin spread across Albus’ face. “Dad, I think you might just be onto something.”

o0o

As soon as Albus walked back into the Manor grounds, he had been dragged by an increasingly agitated Mrs Malfoy to her son’s room. Everyone else looked presentable, even Teddy had turned his hair a very respectable brown. Scorpius only raised his eyebrows at the grass stains on his arse.

And after a very quick seven minutes, twenty seconds, Albus was walking to his spot at the front of the altar. Before he made his own trip down the aisle, his sense of family nagged at him. So with a flick of his wand, he sent his galloping horse to wish Rose a happy and safe trip down the aisle.

“You ready for this?” he asked Scorpius. “Because I have no problems dragging you kicking and screaming down that aisle.”

Scorpius laughed. “You might have to drag my grandfather to the front row. He actually tried to pay me to call off the wedding. Father decided to spell his mouth shut, although it took some convincing on my part not to let him do the same to your uncle.”

Albus peered down the aisle and sure enough, there was a very compliant Lucius Malfoy in the front row next to a sour-looking wife. “Your dad has a chance yet.”

“Look, I know how shit it’s been for you today. Since you realised Rose and I were madly in love, really. But I wanted to thank you,” Scorpius said sincerely. “You have been my best friend since you saw me looking like I’d shit my pants on the train and when I was the first bloody Malfoy to be Sorted into Gryffindor. You came with me to talk to your uncle about dating Rose and convinced her not to chuck me when my grandfather tried to pay her to date Frankie. You’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty, mate, and I swear I’m not trying to get my cock up your arse, but I wanted to say thank you. You are family.”

“Your cock wouldn’t be able to satisfy my arse anyway, Malfoy,” Albus said dryly and punched Scorpius in the arm. “But thanks. The threat still stands, best friend and best man or not. You hurt Rose, and I swear I won’t intervene when she rips your bollocks off by hand.”

Moments later they were at the end of the altar. Many tearful Weasleys, Potters, Grangers, Scamanders, Longbottoms and various others turned around to see eighteen peacocks walking in sync to the sound of twelve harpists. Jacqueline Lupin led the line of bridesmaids and finally, Uncle Ron appeared with a beautiful, glowing Rose.

A soft sob coming from Aunt Hermione didn’t detract from the broad grin that was on the groom’s face. Albus eyed the Malfoy side and surprisingly, saw a very tearful but smiling Mrs Malfoy and a somewhat amused Mr Malfoy. As Rose’s eyes caught the myriad of roses decorating the archway, Albus winked at her and flicked his wand behind his back.

The roses slowly transformed into bright, yellow sunflowers. Finally, when they reached the end, Rose hugged her father and he wiped his eyes furiously as he walked to the side to stand beside his wife and sister, equally as tearful.

Everyone turned around and the deep voice of Harry Potter was the soundtrack as Rose and Scorpius finally held hands.

“Welcome, everyone...”

o0o

Albus was tired of smiling for photographs and he flipped his cousin Louis the bird. “Rose is not going to be happy when she sees these,” he pointed out.

“The tiny yet vicious Mrs Malfoy will not exactly be surprised to see photographs of Albus being a cockhead, Lou-balls,” Hugo shouted, spilling his goblet of Firewhiskey. “Put the bloody camera down and have a drink, you ponce!”

Louis fumbled for a bit and then accepted the goblet Hugo was holding out for him. “You’re all very bad influences,” he muttered before downing the entire drunk, to a chorus of cheers.

“You’re the older one, mate,” James said cheerfully. “How is it that _you_ aren’t influencing us?”

Louis shrugged. “Look at that table,” he said and pointed to the far table in the corner. All the Weasley boys plus Teddy, Neville and Al’s dad were in the middle of a loud drinking game. Several empty goblets littered the table and everyone, including Uncle Percy was slurring their speech.

Right at that moment, the table erupted into a cheer after Albus’ dad had loudly yelled at Mr Malfoy, “Thanks for the free booze, you wanker!”Albus laughed along with them as Mr Malfoy flipped them the bird and proceeded to down his own drink.

For the most part, everyone seemed to be in excellent spirits. Nobody had tripped over during the walk down the aisle and families on both sides seemed to be behaving themselves. Uncle Ron had nearly set fire to the elder Mr Malfoy’s trousers but Al’s mum convinced him to Vanish his chair while he was sitting in it instead.

Albus had danced with nearly every woman in his family, including his young niece and then Dom’s girlfriend. As he looked at the dancefloor now, Frankie and Roxanne were dancing a little too close for comfort. Uncle George had already magically tied Frankie’s shoelaces together once this evening and Freddie had stolen his wallet and hexed his galleons to sing every time he touched them.

Unfortunately, through all the chaos and partying, Albus had yet to write his highly anticipated speech. It would be coming up soon and while he wasn’t exactly afraid of public speaking or worried about making an idiot out of himself, he was still fairly concerned about the whole matter. At least a dozen people had asked him about it and he had come up with a dozen different excuses.

He spied his dear uncle, trying to scribble some words down on a piece of parchment as his family rallied around him, completely drunk. “You’re barking, that’s not even funny!” Uncle Charlie cried as Uncle Percy tried to snatch it.

“I don’t believe it would be quite proper to call your new father-in-law and Former Death Eater Scumbug Fucker.”

“Sod off you prick,” his uncle mumbled. As the laughter and drinking increased around the table, Albus thought it was a perfect opportunity to sneak out for another cigarette. Considering he was older and much more rebellious, James didn’t actually smoke.

Looking out for his mother, and his Gran, he snuck out the side door, narrowly avoiding the sour-faced elder Mr Malfoy, who looked like his mouth was still cursed shut.

The air outside was cool and Albus relished the feel of the breeze on his heated skin. Inside had been descending into chaos from the moment the bridal party had entered the Manor. After the morning’s absurdity, Albus knew that all he wanted was to take a moment to calm down. He crept to his trusted spot behind the bushes and conjured a chair.

And once again, he forgot that the spare pack of cigs was resting comfortably in Scorpius’ room. “Fuck that,” he declared to the peaceful night and sunk back into his chair.

“Oh there you are,” a sharp voice interrupted him. “You aren’t supposed to sneak out of a wedding unless you’ve got a bird to shag.”

With a lazy flick of his wand, Albus conjured another chair. “I’m afraid that we happen to be related, Rose-ario. Not to mention you’re a sodding Malfoy now.”

Rose snorted and took her seat, casting off her shoes in the process. “Get fucked, Potter.”

“Why are you out here, anyway? Don’t you have relatives to mooch some wedding galleons from? Like you’d need them anyway,” Albus scoffed as Rose promptly punched him.

“I need a fucking cigarette, that’s why I’m here, you wanker. Hand one over before I tell your mother.”

“All out, Rosepetal.”

Just as Rose was about to verbally abuse Albus again, another voice intervened. “Were you two idiots even listening all these years? I thought I reminded you to always keep a pack hiding down your knickers for emergencies.”

“Normally I’d tell you to get your arse-sweat away from my cigs but I’m bloody dying for one,” Albus said, conjuring up another chair and holding his hand out. Scorpius placed a cigarette in both Al and Rose’s open hands.

Each took out their wands and quickly lit their cigarettes. Albus kept his wand lit and took a deep drag. “Fuck,” he moaned.

“I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” Scorpius added. “No offence, Roseroo.”

“None taken Scorpalicious,” Rose said sweetly. “I was waiting all day to rip your clothes off and fuck you but I suppose this cigarette is hitting the spot.”

“The pair of you are disgusting,” Albus announced. “Two sodding Malfoys for best mates. I knew I should have made nice with Frankie.”

“You do realise he’s going home with your other cousin tonight, yeah?” Scorpius pointed out. “At least I made an honest woman out of Rosie-bear.”

“He’s got a point, Albus. Our dear best friend Scorpius will be a married man calling out my name this evening. We need to find you some tail now. I reckon it’s time we found another bird to liven this trio up to a quartet.”

“My cousin Roberta thinks you have the arse of Adonis. I wanted to gouge my eyes out after that one,” Scorpius piped up from the darkness.

“Really, Scorp, a Slytherin?” Rose added pessimistically. “Gryffindors don’t scrape at the bottom of the barrel, you know.”

“Okay, I reckon you two can just shut your gobs,” Albus stated calmly. “You need to remember that even though it’s your wedding day, I will be making a very embarrassing speech about you both in about twenty minutes. And I’m sure your dad would love to hear about how I caught you polishing Scorp’s knob in the Potions lab in seventh year.”

“You wouldn’t!” Rose accused. “He would go spare!”

Scorpius chuckled. “He’d probably manage to find some way to blame Father for it anyway. And no offence, Ring-A-Ring-A-Rosey, your father is so drunk he’d probably vomit on himself and set his _own_ trousers on fire.”

The three of them were silent for a moment and then burst out laughing. “I forgot to add,” Scorpius said through laughter, “I brought out Father’s secret stash of wine. Rose, you’re better than your idiot cousin at conjuring, would you do your old husband the honour?”

Even in the semi-darkness, Albus could tell that Rose was smiling and probably blushing. He found himself smiling too. After all the rubbish they had put up with between their families, Albus was truly happy that his two best mates had finally made it.

“I think I could do that for you Mr Malfoy,” Rose replied and skilfully conjured up three matching Muggle-style wine glasses. Albus grabbed two of them and held them out as Scorpius poured all three drinks, holding his own glass in the process.

“I think I’d like to propose a toast,” he started.

“Aren’t you supposed to do this inside in front of everyone? You know, where you publically declare that I am the most beautiful creature in the world and you’re lucky to have landed me?” Rose interjected.

“Shut your gob, woman,” Scorpius whined. “I’m trying to be civil here!”

“Get on with it, I’m getting thirsty,” Albus complained and Scorpius cleared his throat.

“To my beautiful bride, Rose. You are the most beautiful creature in the world. Ever since I saw you on the train having a fight with your cousin about who was going to dye your brother’s sheets bright pink, I knew I would either love you or hate you. And seeing as you’re sitting here as a Malfoy, I reckon I made the best decision of my life.”

“That was beautiful, Scorpius,” Rose breathed. “Shall I give you your bollocks back now?”

“You’re a little witch,” Scorpius said cheerfully. “And to my; or rather our, best friend in the entire world. You’re a little prick who drives me crazy but I swear, I’ll fight for you in the divorce.”

Albus cracked a smile as he felt Rose’s fingers squeeze own. “Fuck off, Malfoy. Blood is thicker than peroxide hair.”

“Fuck off, Malfoy, he’s mine,” Scorpius said.

“I get the point. After twelve years of being between the pair of you, I can safely say I’ll alternate weekends. But I expect two lots of presents at Christmas and birthdays and don’t you dare spend less than twelve galleons.”

“To marriage,” Rose announced, holding her glass up.

“To family,” echoed Scorpius, holding his glass up.

“To Albus Potter, Best Man and future godfather. Merlin help us all,” Albus called out and clinked his glass between his two best friends.

“Merlin help us,” Rose breathed and the three of them took the last drags of their cigarettes.

 


End file.
